that about sums it up. the little diddie of my existance. its almost a poem. almost. but poems have form, structure, rhyme and reason. But who says they have to? Did I say reason? I meant to say Rhyme and Meter. or is it spelled Metre? i’m not sure. I might be the worst english major ever. scratch that, I AM the worst english major ever. But Im happy lol. just not satisfied.
life is just this small window of time, an opportunity, between two infinite abysses.
a single finite beam of light, penetrating through the darkness. there was a time when you did not exist, and there will come a time when you will cease to exist.
your brain, the computer. saving all information. the hard drive must be wiped clean eventually.
mechanical limbs. parts. working together. I am A General Motors Automobile. A living, breathing, contraption to be moved, and changed, and used. Gotta keep driving ‘til the motor gives out. Im not even owned. Im leased. This whole life is just a rental
and im still trying to find the keys to my car.
swimming in my memories, its october again and im drowing in the smell of pine trees. evergreen firth everythings better, nothings worse. its october again. the smoke surrounds me warmly. Vanish into a cloud and, I’m gone. Away I’ve gone. shes by my side. all of shes are. Were tumbling again, down the hill, past the cypress trees, into the river, and splash among the reeds. October was never that cold. and I, the fish, swim, in & out of my memories.